Game Pieces
by 666-HyuugaNeji-999
Summary: The war between the darkness and the light is over. Pyrrha commands the power of Soul Edge and rules with an iron fist over most of the known world. Unfortunately for her, without a war there is little entertainment to be had, so she must make her own. Unfortunately for her subjects, every game needs pieces. Rated T for violence and character death. Oneshot - COMPLETE.


**Hello everyone! **

**Some of you may be thinking "what're you doing writing new stories when you're in the middle of other ones" and I want to reassure those people: I am still working on the next chapter of In Loving Memory. I had the idea for this last night and it only took a couple of hours to write, so it isn't taking away from valuable Dramione time, I promise. **

**This is an entirely new fandom for me, so I welcome any comments or corrections of mistakes I may have made. Also, this story is currently a one-shot and will remain that way until I have more time on my hands, but I may consider rewriting it as a full-length story that will include Patroklos's fate and many other characters as well. Let me know if you would be interested in reading that and I'll give it a think :)  
**

**Please enjoy and write me a review when you're done!**

**WARNINGS: Violence and character death. **

* * *

_The war is over. The malfested have won. _

A raven circles over the towers of Denevér Castle, now the stronghold of Pyrrha Alexander. Her army of loyal malfested behind her, Pyrrha now rules most of the known world with an iron fist. Her younger brother Patroklos, who sought to save her from the darkness, failed in his quest. His head now adorns the battlements above the castle gates, along with many others who stood in Pyrrha's way. The rest of her enemies, those who were not slaughtered or driven into hiding, now reside in the castle dungeons to await their turn in Pyrrha's games.

For Pyrrha is easily bored and there is only one kind of entertainment that can sate her appetite.

* * *

A young woman is sobbing into her hands in the dark. Z.W.E.I. can hear her so clearly, despite the thick stone wall separating their cells.

"Viola?" he calls out. "Are you alright?"

She falls quiet. "Z.W.E.I.?"

"Yeah, it's me. Did they hurt you at all?"

"No, I am alright. Are you?"

Z.W.E.I. smiles at the concern in her voice; he can always trust Viola to be more worried about everyone else than herself. "I'm fine."

He opens his mouth to speak again but stops when his ears catch the sound of footsteps echoing down the passage towards them. A stab of fear shoots through his heart, but he pushes it down; he must be brave for Viola's sake.

"Who's there?" Z.W.E.I. shouts, his fear sharpening his tone.

A girlish laugh filled the air and Z.W.E.I. ground his teeth. _Her_.

Viola gives a small shriek of fear and he presses himself against the bars, trying to see what's happening. "Viola? Viola!"

There is the sound of a struggle, then a sharp 'thwack'. Viola is silent and Z.W.E.I. can't see what's happening.

"If you've hurt her-" he starts to say, but he's interrupted by a slim young woman in brightly-coloured motley, skipping across the corridor to the front of his cell. She stops in front of the door. "Bad dog. Sit!" Tira commands, then giggles again.

Z.W.E.I. growls and slams his fist into the wrought-iron door, but she just steps back and smiles.

"Now, now. Not a good start." She clicks her fingers and two huge figures step out of the shadows. More like machines than men, they step mechanically up to the door and wait while Tira unlocks the door. "Come on, boy. And do it quietly, I don't want to have to kill your little friend."

He knows she will, too. As Pyrrha Alexander's favoured adviser, games-master and head torturer, she enjoys her job far more than any decent person should. _But then_, Z.W.E.I. reflected, _she _isn't_ a decent person_.

Viola is standing against the wall outside his cell. She looks slightly dazed and Z.W.E.I. wonders if they hit her on the head.

As they leave the dungeons, Z.W.E.I. behind Viola as they walk between the two gargantuan guards following their deranged master, he bites his tongue to keep from cursing. He wants to scream, to beat his fists against the walls in frustration. They had been so _close_. Another half-day's travel and they would have been out of reach of Pyrrha's minions. But instead they had been caught and imprisoned in the dungeons to await "their turn". Z.W.E.I. knew what that meant. They would be forced to fight in Pyrrha's games, where they would either win or die.

"You two are in for a special treat today!" Tira trills, turning and skipping backwards ahead of the group.

"Oh, yeah? Do I get to kill you?" Z.W.E.I. snarls, earning himself a jab in the ribs from the guard to his right.

"No, not me. But you will get to... Oh that's _right_. I'm not allowed to tell you." She giggles and dances away down the corridor.

* * *

Z.W.E.I. has a perfect view from his new lodgings: a cell at ground level, right beside the blood-stained sand of the arena. The current reigning champion, one Mitsurugi Heishiro, rips his sword from his latest opponent's body and turns away as the unfortunate warrior falls to the floor. From where he stands, Z.W.E.I. can see Mitsurugi's expression. He does not enjoy killing, but he cannot deny the thrill of victory. The werewolf part of Z.W.E.I. is quick to agree, but he quiets it with a thought and focuses on the viewing platform from which Pyrrha watches, where Tira stands to announce the victory.

"And so, we say farewell to another hapless cockroach who- What? Oh, very well. And so, we say farewell to another brave competitor who has fallen to the sword of the mighty Mitsurugi! Who will face our champion next?"

The motley-clad woman turns and confers with the others on the platform, then returns to the front of the platform. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have our next contestant! He's technically immortal on account of being a vampire, but I'm sure even he can't survive being cut in half! Haha!" She points with a flourish to a gate on the other side of the arena and trills, "Please welcome...Raphael Sorel!"

As the body of the other dead contestant is dragged from the arena, another young man steps onto the sand. Rapier in hand, he raises his chin and glares defiantly at Mitsurugi. A sound like a gong being struck signals the start of the fight. Z.W.E.I. doesn't really want to watch, but somehow he can't tear his eyes away. Sometime soon, he will be taking the place of one of those damned souls. Will he be strong enough to hold his own against someone like Mitsurugi? And if he is, will he be able to bring himself to kill?

The fight doesn't last long. For a while it seems as though Raphael has the upper hand, even managing to land a painful-looking hit on Mitsurugi's sword arm. Then the fight changes again and Raphael is suddenly on his back, his sword yards away from his hand. Even his vampiric powers cannot save him as Mitsurugi's sword strikes true, impaling him through his heart. It is a quick and merciful death, likely intentional on Mitsurugi's part.

"Well that was just disappointing!" Tira complains loudly. "I really thought we'd get a better show from him. Oh, well. Our next contestant is someone very special..."

Z.W.E.I. stops listening as a hatch in the wall of his cell opens. Through it, a steel sword is pushed through before the hatch swings shut. He recognises the sword as his own three-handled blade, the very one they had taken from him when he and Viola were captured. _But that must mean..._

"...Z.W.E.I.!"

The gate separating him from the arena lifts and, realising he has no choice, Z.W.E.I. steps out onto the sand. The sunlight is bright and he raises a hand to shield his eyes as he steps closer to the bloody sand in the centre of the arena. Mitsurugi wipes his sword clean on the shirt of the fallen Raphael, before servants come to drag the corpse away.

"Nice day for it," Z.W.E.I. comments, earning a short laugh from Mitsurugi as he glances around the arena. Is that a flash of silver hair he sees, behind one of those gates? He isn't sure, but there's no time to check as the gong sounds again.

Mitsurugi gives him no time to prepare, charging straight in with a direct cut to the side. Darting sideways, Z.W.E.I. retaliates with a jab to the stomach. That forces his opponent back a step, briefly giving him room to breathe. He can sense E.I.N.'s desperation to be freed, to help in the fight, but he tells him _not yet._ It is not the right time.

The clash of steel echoes around the silent arena. Both men are strong and quick, neither fighter appearing to dominate the other as they circle, sidestep and roll across the sand. Z.W.E.I. tries to keep a grin from his face as the thrill of a good fight floods through his veins. He's never fought an opponent as skilled as this before and it is an education, to say the least. He might even admit that he was enjoying himself. At least, until Mitsurugi throws a handful of bloody sand in his face and Z.W.E.I. chokes, suddenly blinded and unable to breathe. Stumbling backwards, Z.W.E.I. does not see the man throwing himself at him, pinning him to the ground. He cannot see the sword, rising up in preparation for the swift downward stab that will end his life.

Despite these unfortunate facts, a smile crosses his face. _Now_.

A snarl followed by a horrific ripping sound only makes Z.W.E.I.'s grin wider. He raises a hand to wipe the sand from his eyes, still grinning even as blood begins to splatter his face. He can taste it on his teeth and feel it running down his neck, but doesn't bother to wipe it away. Eyes now cleared of blood and sand, he raises his hand and strokes his faithful E.I.N. between the ears. The werewolf spirit licks his face and whines a greeting, then turns and vanishes back to whatever plane of existence he calls home.

Z.W.E.I. gets to his feet, glancing momentarily at the mangled mess that had been Mitsurugi Heishiro. He bows his head, offering a nod of respect to the strong opponent he had been. If it had not been for E.I.N., it would be his blood soaking into the ground instead.

"Well, this is a turn-up for the books!" Tira crows from the platform. "It appears we have a new champion!"

There is applause, but Z.W.E.I. does not acknowledge it. Instead he turns in the direction of the gate where he had glimpsed that flash of silver hair. He doesn't hear Tira's next words, or the applause that follows them. All he can hear is the rush of blood in his ears and a voice in his head screaming _not her, not her, please not her!_

Viola steps out onto the sand, blinking in the bright light. Her dress is ragged, one stocking is torn and her cape hangs crookedly from her shoulders, but somehow she is still the most graceful, elegant creature Z.W.E.I. has ever seen. Her demeanour is perfectly composed as she surveys the scene of carnage before her. Their gazes meet and, for a moment, the arena and all of their enemies fall away, leaving only the two of them. Then he realises that she is wearing her clawed rings on her right hand, the shining purple orb hovering beside her, and reality crashes back down.

"Do you intend to fight?" he asks, incredulous. "Surely you do not expect me to-"

"I already know the outcome of this fight," she replies calmly, ignoring his words.

"I am not going to fight you, Viola!" Z.W.E.I. cannot believe what he is hearing.

The gong sounds and Viola springs into action, sending the orb spinning through the air at Z.W.E.I.'s face. He ducks and turns, raising his sword to parry as her clawed hand attempts to swipe across his chest.

"Make it look real," she whispers, then dances away again.

The two of them have sparred together a thousand times; they know each other's moves almost as well as their own. That makes it easy for them to create a semblance of battle without either ever actually coming close to harming the other.

_Slash, stab, parry._

As they spin and duck, swipe and slash, they can hear Tira's shrill voice taunting and goading, but Z.W.E.I. ignores her. His focus is entirely on the woman in front of him, his entire being aware of how deadly his blade might be if he messes up. He isn't afraid of her hurting him; she always did have more finesse than he ever could.

_Slash, stab, parry._

"How long do you want to keep this up?" he asks quickly, when she is close enough to hear him.

"As long as it takes," she replies, in her usual enigmatic manner.

_Slash, stab, parry._

Z.W.E.I. hears a yell from the platform. _Pyrrha must be getting bored of us_, he thought. _We're not killing each other fast enough._ He ducked an unexpected orb-attack and rolled to the side as Viola sends a barrage of swiping metal claws at his face. He wonders briefly whether the enemies she has defeated in the past ever noticed her grace and agility while they were fighting her. It's unlikely; _they were probably too busy trying not to have their eyes clawed out_, he reflected, blocking another clawed attack.

_Slash, stab-_

Time stops. Z.W.E.I. can feel warm blood running over his fingers as he looks into the face of the only woman he has ever loved. Her brow is furrowed with pain but, inexplicably, a smile curves her lips.

"I foresaw this," she whispers. "I knew you would save me."

"S-_Save_ you?" he chokes out, dropping to his knees as her legs give out, the sword sliding from her chest and falling to the sand with a dull 'thump'. He cradles her in his lap and brushes her hair off her face. "I...This is..."

"I know." Viola coughs and blood starts to run from the corner of her mouth. "I...do not have long."

"Hush, don't talk. Save your strength." Z.W.E.I. presses a hand to the bleeding wound and tries to ignore the sickening feeling of her blood between his fingers.

"F-For what?" She chuckles softly, wincing at the pain the movement causes. "I am...going to die...here."

"No, no you're not. You're going to be just fine. We just need to...to patch you up, and..." Z.W.E.I.'s eyes prickle and he feels tears running down his face, but he can't wipe them away with his bloody hands. "Why didn't you parry, Viola? Why?"

"I foresaw it," she repeats. "I would rather...a merciful death than that...which _she_ would give me." Her eyes drift towards the platform and Z.W.E.I. realises that Tira is not shouting anymore. She should be screaming at him to finish it, or else something equally callous. Instead, she is sitting on the edge of the platform and watching them with interest.

His eyes widen and he fights back a growl of fury. "They intended this from the beginning, didn't they?" he mutters. "As soon as we were caught, they planned this."

"It is...likely." Viola coughs again and lets out am agonised cry, her face creased in pain. "I...I cannot..."

"It's alright." Z.W.E.I. forces a smile and takes her cold hand in his. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Z.W.E.I..." Her eyes meet his and a single tear slips down her ivory cheek. Her lips move but her voice is so quiet he has to lean right down to hear her words. "...Thank you."

A sigh leaves her lips and her body relaxes completely, eyes fixed on a point somewhere to the left of his face. With a shaking hand, Z.W.E.I. gently closes her eyes before laying her down onto the sand. She is gone. She has been his whole world ever since he first met her and now she is gone.

A girlish giggle breaks the silence and Z.W.E.I.'s jaw clenches so hard it hurts. A growl rises in his throat, becoming a fully-fledged roar by the time it passes his lips. He's already running by the time he notices he's moving, speeding across the sand to the wall where Tira sits on the edge of the raised platform. There is no way he can reach to climb up there, but he does not need to reach that far. E.I.N.'s power flares within him and he leaps higher than a normal man ever could, snatching at the air and grasping fabric. One almighty tug sends her sprawling onto the sand, where she flips back onto her feet and starts to run.

_Easy prey. _

E.I.N. snarls in anticipation inside Z.W.E.I.'s head and the man gives unspoken consent.

For so long he has ignored his instincts to hunt and kill, all for the sake of Viola. She has kept him grounded and helped him to find other ways of channelling his power. It has improved his swordsmanship, patience and above all else, it has enabled him to exert control over the beast within him. He relinquishes that power now, allowing the werewolf to take over as he takes his revenge on the woman who orchestrated Viola's death.

Her blood tastes sweet on his tongue, her dying screams a soothing balm to his ears. So lost is he in the joy of his revenge that he never hears the twang of the crossbow. He doesn't even feel the bolt striking the back of his neck and ripping through to open his throat. He falls forwards, his final thoughts only of Viola's smile, before everything fades to black.

Pyrrha rises to her feet, stepping to the edge of the platform to watch as servants drag away two more bodies than usual. The werewolf's sudden rampage had been interesting, but not unexpected. Tira always did get too involved with the competitors, she reflected disinterestedly. Already bored, she turns away and gestures to Voldo, the mute who up to this point has been Tira's assistant.

"It looks like I need a new games-master. Congratulations. You've been promoted."

* * *

**That was a bit dark, wasn't it? :S **

**I hope you guys enjoyed that, it was good fun to write. I love the game and I've been thinking about Z.W.E.I./Viola as a pairing for a while; I think they're cute together. What do you think?**

**Please leave a review and thanks for reading!**


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